Marriage is for the man;
He benefits from the union.
Woman loses her independence,
Her name,
Often her property.
She becomes “Mrs.”
He stays the same.
“Well-behaved women seldom make history.”
On a cold, sunny Saturday, I decided it was time to write another play. .As a playwright, I feel like I should write plays every now and then, otherwise, how could I be a playwright? So today, I give you a play about a situation that was all too common all too recently. If you are interested more in this topic, may I suggest the book The Woman They Could not Silence by Kate Moore? It’s quite interesting, and well written. Oh, well, here I am recommending other women’s writing rather than posting my own. So, for your reading pleasure, The Bath.
Read MoreJordan stared at the bewildering array of bottles. She picked one up to read the label, but it was written in science. She didn’t understand. She closed her eyes, grabbed a bottle, and headed to the counter. The girl who checked her out stared at the bottle as if it were a snake. “You’re going to take this?”
Read MoreBeing born female
Challenged my coping skills.
I never knew anything else
But I never wanted to role I was taught.
Time drifts away.
Wrinkles stay.
Years of ironing,
But the wrinkles get worse.
She can’t iron out the wrinkles
On her face.
When a woman tells you something is sexist, should you accept that it is, even if it doesn’t seem it to you? What if it is true? Does that make it not sexist? That’s a loaded question, really. After all, not all women agree on what is sexist. Some women might be more sensitive to sexism than others. Some things that seem sexist on the surface might just be fact if you dig deeper.
Read MoreMarch 8. It is officially International Women’s Day. I don’t know about you, but I always enjoy all the special treatment I get for Women’s Day. Of course, I’m just kidding. But it’s nice someone thought about us.
Read MoreI am power.
I speak to you,
And you listen.
I call for you,
And you come.
I want my lunch,
You bring it.
I want a song,
You sing it.
Music is supposed to soothe the savage beast, or so I have been told. Why is it, then, there is so much music that threatens women? I have a very good vocabulary, and nowhere in my thesaurus is threat listed as a synonym for soothe. So which is it? Soothe the savage beast? William Congreve would have it so. Perhaps because he never heard modern music? Or maybe just because he was not a woman.
Read MoreWe all saw it…the wave that grew and grew until it became a tsunami. Women for the first time speaking up about harassment, sexual assault, and rape. Women reporting the men who abused them…and doing it publicly. The house of cards was about to tumble and we all got to watch, even those of us who don’t do Twitter. We might not report our own assaults, but we watched it go mainstream. It was on all lips, on every news outlet…#MeToo.
Read MoreMy mother told me every story begins with a single word. “What’s the word that starts my story?” I was only six; could I understand? She didn’t answer. She couldn’t look at me. “Mama! What word starts my story?” I stomped my foot. It might be temper tantrum time.
“You…you’re too young to know.”
“You always tell me something, then say I’m too young.” I put the pout in my voice; temper tantrum would be the next step.
Read MoreDon’t get huffy.
I was just asking.
Nothing harmed.
AMANDA: We can see that…everyone can see that…Mother, are you all right? Do you feel…sick? Dizzy?
SAMANTHA: I feel fine…quit fussing over me. I am invisible, but other than that, there’s nothing wrong with me.
AMANDA: Colin, call the ambulance. We need to take her…
SAMANTHA: You are not taking me anywhere. Put down that phone…put it down…that’s it, just lay it on the table…good. Now you two sit and do your puzzle, I’m going shopping.
AMANDA: Okay, Mother, what’s going on? What’s up now?
I don’t remember how old I was
When I learned
I must smile constantly.
I must dress to please.
I must never speak unless asked a direct question.
I must never step out of my proper place.
I must never succeed…unless it is childbearing.
I must never win.
Okay, so the breasts are large.
That doesn’t mean they are there
For you to stare at.
Today, I have a poem. It’s short, but if it says what I want to say, it doesn’t need to be long. For this poem, though, you need to have some insight. If you are unfamiliar with what happens to women during a war, there are plenty of sites out there to help you. The war in Ukraine has been weighing on my mind, and from stories I hear, it sounds like this is like every other war…the women are a tool of war, a prize of war, and an opportunity for warriors. One can wish we had progressed beyond this, but it seems we never do.
Read MoreYou know how some days you have something you need to do, but it’s hard to get started? This is one of those days. In fact, everything was hard to get started today, from the moment my cat walked on my head to wake me up to the moment I sat down at the computer to write.
Read More“Sure. If a man wrote it. Look at this. ‘Although the research is sound and the conclusions are solid, our readers simply will not take it seriously if the only authors are women.’ And why not? Why would they take it seriously if it had a man’s name? Don’t answer that.” Kayla wasn’t ready to deal with one of Megan’s tirades, though she usually agreed with her. She ripped the letter in five pieces and threw it in the wastebasket. “Well, back to Home Ec class for me.” Her tone was mocking, but her heart was heavy. She had worked a long time to earn her degree, to complete her research, and she had paid her own way through.
Read MoreThis year the United States inaugurated the first ever woman Vice President, a woman of color. She is talented, intelligent, energetic, and capable. She is inspiring. While some people were conspiring how to steal the victory and hand the office back to the old white man who was holding it, the rest of us were cheering her on, excited and hopeful, more hopeful than we’ve been in some time. It was a major milestone.
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